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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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..V 



TO 



IHOODY 



A SATIRE. 



PRICE 10 CENTS. 



AN 



EARNEST APPEAL 



TO 



MOODY. 



A SATIRE. 







/ 




NEW YORK: 
THE AUTHOES' PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

BOND STREET. 

7f 



1^1 7 3 ^% 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by 

THE AUTHORS' PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 

t. 



AN EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 



Oh ! great apostle of these latter days, 
Whom fools deride, accept the poet's lays. 
Who gives — 'tis all he has — a rugged rhyme 
To aid the cause of virtue vs. crime : 
Nor scorn my aid, nor let thy frown severe, 
That turns to sorrow at contrition's tear, 
Abate the zeal which urges me along 
The narrow path, sustained by simple song. 
I'll point thee out the dens where sin abounds 
And drunken madness all the night resounds. 
Where — let me hope — thy Sankey's song will drown 
The ribald strophes of this godless town. 
While thy resounding eloquence may urge 
The self-made guardians of our laws to purge 
The city of curruption, vice and crime, 
Till law in justice sees its synonyme. 
And men may sleep unconscious of a fear 
That murderous burglars, in the night, are near. 

I've seen the bold and wicked prosper here 
Through all the varying changes of the year, 
I've seen the wanton wife and gay gallant, 
In fashion's gorgeous haunts, unblushing flaunt 



AN EARNjEST appeal TO MOODY. 

Their wickedness all unabash'd by shame, 
Till virtue blush'd her attributes to claim : 
I've seen the jDOor and needy trampled down — 
The cunning knave assume the martyr's crown — 
The surpliced parson plead the murderer's cause — 
The thief protected by our barter'd laws : 
I've seen the wealthy swindler walk the streets 
Admired by every fawning fool he meets — 

The politician — vulgar, low-bred, vile, 
Corrupt and base — with patronizing smile 
Hoodwink the crowd that greets him with a cheer, 
To be repaid it shortly with a sneer : 
I've seen corruption triumph in the halls 
Of state — too oft the scene of drunken brawls ; 
I've seen sad virtue skulk the streets, afraid 
To show itself where hypocrites parade : 
Though churches rear their spires on every hand 
And parsons, drawing princely salaries, brand 
The impiousness that will not hide its head 
Since meek religion from the laud has fled, 
But struts along, the cynosure of all 
The butterflies of fashion's gilded hall. 
But when thy thunders on their heads are launch'd 
And lofty brows by abject fear are blanch'd 
It may, all terror-stricken, fly the land, 
And law and order, men's respect command. 

In Broad and Wall streets, most, they congregate 
Who think but seldom of their future state — 



AN EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 

Who never lift their souls above the low 

And grovelling tastes from which their pleasures flow- 

Who daily gamble for the daily gains 

Which scarcely serve to cool their fever'd brains, 

Till fortune smiles and crowns them with success 

Achieved by means at which we may but guess ; 

Or, fate, capricious, bids them fly the face 

Of former friends to hide their black disgrace. 

Though learn'd in stocks, they do not seem to knoAV 

That souls are doom'd to everlasting woe, 

For just such crimes as men " On change " commit, 

And specially denounced in Holy Writ. 

The stately banker, revelling in the wealth 
Which he accumulates by fraud and stealth, 
For which he yielded, years ago, the soul — 
The shrivell'd soul — God gave to sin's control, 
Looks on thy mission with the lofty scorn 
That Pride affects towards the lowly born ; 
For he is rich, respected, stands before 
The people clothed with wisdom, wealth and lore, 
And in the minds of all his fellow-men 
His words are fix'd by the reporter's pen ; 
Then should he brand thee, Moody, as a fraud. 
His words on lightning's wings will fly abroad. 
And men will look suspiciously on thee, 
And sneer at Sankey's simple psalmody : 
But could you pluck him from the burning blaze. 
Thy meed would be the widow's — orphan's — praise, 
Thy best reward, the soul-felt gi-atitude 
Of people whom the saving banks delude. 



Air EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 

Convert him then from all the devious ways 
In which the swindler from his childhood strays, 
Ere he convert the pittance of the poor 
To his own coffers, where 'tis lock'd secure, 
While they by whom 'twas trusted to his care, 
"When cheated of their little all, may swear 
There's neither God nor law in all the land, 
And only wealth can man's respect command. 

Here, Moody ! is your field of labor, here 
You may succeed despite the cynic's sneer, 
Though Tyng and Hall work'd late and long in vain 
And garner'd chaff while Satan reap'd the grain 
Till driven from the field in sheer despair. 
They turn'd their faces from corruption's lair 
And sought in fields more green and pastures newer, 
To lure within the fold the simple poor. 
Who humbly seek the opening gates of heaven, 
Where meek repentance hopes to be forgiven. 
Oh ! Moody if you would deserve success. 
Your field is where such " heavy weights " transgress- 
Who bring to thousands suffering and distress. 
And boast in public of their wickedness — 
Who plunder helpless widows — who despoil, 
Without regret, the suffering sons of toil — 
Who levy on the weak the means by which 
They make their narrow-minded children rich. 

Denounce in thunder tones the proud, the long 
Array of harden' d criminals who throng 



AK EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 

The halls of finance, when the gloomy aisles 
If Sing Sing ought to be their domiciles : 
If you aspire to win the apostle's crown, 
You must not fail to bring the culprits down, 
Upon their knees to shriek for mercy, where 
No supplicating sinner need despair. 
Show " Uncle Dan " that all profession fails 
To save the soul when Wall street's God assails ; 
Assure him that " Rock Island 's " not the road 
That leads directly to the bless'd abode. 
But tell him, if he would his soul secure. 
He must be kind and bounteous to the poor; 
'Twas thus our Saviour in the early days 
Taught wicked men to walk in wisdom's ways. 
Though scoffers say, a camel will pass through 
A needle's eye, ere Uncle Dan will do 
A deed so foreign to his shrunken soul 
As pay to virtue the accustom'd toll. 
Sis soul is made of sterner stuff — he thinks, 
As meeker mortals do, that Garbriel winks 
At wealthy sinners who endow the church 
The while they leave their victims in the lurch, 
To gnash their teeth and hurl their wrath at those 
Who sleep secure in well-bred sin's repose. 
Oh ! wake his soul to higher — ^holier aims ; 
Teach him to scorn the lust of gold that claims 
Its pound of flesh from hearts which are inclined 
In virtue's lowlier lot to live resign'd, 
So may he, when the game of life is play'd, 
Meet the dread king of terrors imdismay'd, 



AN EARNEST APPEAL TO MOOBT. 

And deem his presence an assurance of 
A speedy passage to the reahn of love, 
Where sin can never enter, fraud nor guile, 
Nor selfish passion, more his soul defile, 
But life eternal, peace and endless joy. 
Which, unlike earthly pleasures, never cloy, 
Await the Christian when his hour is come 
To seek on angels' wings his heavenly home. 

But should yott fail with him, you may succeed 
In making mystic Bullion's bosom bleed. 
Who never wept at sorrow's sigh nor felt 
His soul with sympathetic feelings melt. 
When widespread want made suffering thousands feel 
JThat Christian apathy, than foeman's steel. 
Is much more cruel — as disease, though slow. 
Is to the bolt which lays its victim low 
Upon the battle-field where death is dared 
Defiantly by men all unprepared 
To pass to final judgment in that hour — 
That awful hour — when God asserts his power. 
Depict the glories of the future life 
To him whose soul finds pleasure in the strife 
And turmoil of a world that brings but care 
To man, who is, at best, but sorrow's heir. 

Perchance he thinks his stock in the Tribune^ 
Whose lofty turret intercepts the moon. 
And Greeley's name, which is a tower of strength, 
Will as a heavenly passport serve at length : 



AN EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 

Oh ! say to him that such delusions lead 

But to that realm where guilty bosoms bleed — 

The tower of Babel would not serve him there, 

And Greeley's frown would drive him to despair ; 

For has he not degraded the Tribune 

T 'enhance the value of a bier saloon, 

Where his once strictly temperate employees 

May revel weekly in the noxious lees 

Of alcohol, the while their children cry 

For that rich food their sires could once supply ? 

Ah ! could plain, simple Horace now return 

To his old corner, how his soul would burn 

With rage to see his monument defiled 

By whom he was in life so oft reviled : 

With his own hand he would the torch apply, 

Though in the wreck his honest fame should die 

And be forgotten — ^his proud monument 

Should be to no degrading uses lent. 

For he was honest, truthful, temperate, free, 

And simple in his tastes as man could be ; 

And as he loved the Tribune, which he nurst 

So tenderly and fondly from the first, 

'Tis well he lives not to behold it doom'd 

To ignominy and be with crime entomb'cl. 

And eke their scorn, who rend the chains that bind 

In slavery the toper's feeble mind. 

r~ Next preach the gospel in Newspaper Row, 
t Where, Moody, you must strike your heaviest blow 
For there, men claim to be possest of brains 
Who dearly love the halls where Mammon reigiw — 



10 -^-^ EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 

Who flatter folly and who love to haunt 

The crowded porticos of brazen Cant — 

The unclean god most worshipped in our land — 

And, strange to say, with most persistence bann'd 

By those held captive in his servile chains, 

For falsehood in their hearts unquestion'd reigns ; 

While darker passions lead their souls astray 

And avarice and hatred rule the day ; 

And in the night, oh ! fear and shame combine 

To screen the deeds on which no light may shine. 

Such harden'd sinners scarcely would repent 

Though the blue skies with your appeals are rent : 

But try your influence ere it be too late. 

Men, though successful, must submit to fate, 

And haply may ev'n at th' eleventh hour 

Upon their knees confess thy saving power. 

\ Assail the fortress of the little soul 

Of Crocus, who is blinder than a mole — 

[The courteous, specious, literary fop, 

iWho pours his deadly venom, drop by drop, 

Into the bleeding wounds of those who dare, 

Unawed by power, their rugged breasts to bare 

In battle for the blood-bought heritage 

Of all mankind in this degenerate age. 

Impress on him that democrats have souls 

To save, though floundering wildly on the shoals 

Of sin, for while the lamp holds out to burn 

The most abandon'd sinner may return. 

Oh ! say to him that men who disagree 

With him ia all things, are and should be free 



AN" EAB.NEST AFPEAL TO MOODY. H 

To treat him with contempt, nor aoes it follow 
They, hence are mean, contemptible or hollow : 

(Show him that justice is a Christian gift; 
Enlarge his heart, encourage him to lift 
His eyes above the bigotry and hate 
Of men who live two centuries too late. 
Explain to him that Rome has had her day — 
That only asses are supposed to bray ; 
Point out to him that in this lovely land 
) No favor'd race is born to bear command — 
That only fools would turn their backs on heaven 
Because rej^entant Bridget, duly shriven, 
Has enter'd there and at her Saviour's feet, 
Through grace and mercy, has secured a seat : 
Teach him that men who plunge their country in 
Religious wars are truly born in sin ; 
And though the constitution guarantees 
Their rights to all, the man, who at his ease 
Behind his desk, inspires the ruthless mob 
To ply the torch and glories in the job. 
Barters his freedom for the felon's cell. 
Which heartless demagogues deserve so well. 

Teach him to worship God, not British peers 
Whose blandest courtesies are covert sneers, 
For they regard him as of mushroom birth, 
Whose servile fawnings but provoke their mirth. 
While boasting of his English ancestors 
Whom — ^must I write it — ^heraldry ignores. 



12 AN EARNEST AFP SAL TO MOODY. 

When native intellect begins to pall 
And peers and bishops ansv,^er not his call, 
Inferior bards and literary men, 
Whose sole credential is the restless pen, 
Are duly welcomed, though they visit here, 
At us and ours to vent the bitter sneer ; 
And court the favor of those Puritans 
Who claim, nor blush, that their inheritance 
Is bigotry, as dark and blind as when 
Old Cotton Mather graced it with his pen, 
Ignoring virtues which have had their birth 
And were matured in that proud spot of earth, 
To shed their lustre at a later hour 
On other lands which claim them as their dower. 
But shall we hold the foreigner to blame 
While native Crocus, quite devoid of shame. 
Holds our loved institutions up to scorn 
And ridicule, as being threadbare worn. 
Because they press no fetters on the mind, 
Nor are for fops, who love to rule, design'd ? 
Our laws may be imperfect, as they say, — ■ 
We make the laws ourselves, which we obey, 
And when they prove defective we've the power 
To change them in our own convenient hour : 
Our people, homogeneous though they be. 
Are men whose instincts teach them to be free, 
Our flag protects them — they protect the flag, 
And win success though somewhat giv'n to brag : 
We are content and feel a freeman's scorn 
For those who ape Britannia's nobly born — 



AK EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 13 

Who doff the cap and bend the supple knee 
To titled lordlings from beyond the sea. 
Oh, Moody ! teach such cringers to be plain, 
Brave, upright, honest, Christian gentlemen — 
Persuade them to repent and — if you can — 
Teach Crocus to become a better man. 

Oh ! for the good old days of long ago, 
"Which saw the blood of Christian martyrs flow, 
To sate a bishop's pious hate, whose pride 
But seem'd his Saviour's meekness to deride. 
Or, what were better, had he been but bom 
That glorious age of bigots to adorn. 
When placid victims of the church's hate. 
In tortures writhing met the martyr's fate 
With that mild patience which forgives the foe, 
Which would consign them to eternal woe. 
Or failing that, would, where we mortals dwell, 
Give them a foretaste of the pangs of hell. 
To show the world how holy and how pure 
Were they who would no heresy endure. 

But Crocus, arm'd with weapons used with skUl, 
The slanderous tongue and the malignant guile 
With all the rancorous hate of malice born. 
Would look on such an age with lofty scorn, 
Because the simple tortures which it forged, 
And plied till ev'n the bigot's hate was gorged. 
Could never reach the mind which looks on pain, 
When most it racks the limbs as heavenly gain. 



14 J^ EARNEST AFPEAL TO M00D7. 

" See ! " he would say, " how harmless falls your wrath 

On men who will not swerve from custom's path, 

Nor at your altars bow to deprecate 

Your aimless anger and your fruitless hate : 

You pile your fagots round their shrinking limbs, 

The while they nerve their souls with joyous hymns, 

To scorn your vengeance, or your menials ply 

The thumb-screw, rendering them content to die, 

Or on the rack you slowly wrench their bones, 

And laugh the while your dying victim groans, 

As he resigns his spirit to his God. 

Your doom, his passport, to the bless'd abode, 

While far applauding millions sing their praise 

To coming ages in a thousand lays, 

And unborn nations, when you've done your worst, 

Shall read your names, in history's page, accurst. 

Not thus, intelligence would win renown 

Or seek in blood the bigot's iron crown ; 

She threatens not with fagot and with stake 

The harebrain'd recusant for conscience sake. 

The rack, the fillet and the thumb-screw dread 

With all their stupid advocates are dead. 

They were the bungling tools of bungling men, 

And though sufficient for the purpose then, 

The pious zealots of the present day 

Who claim all vile schismatics as their prey. 

And which t' exterminate they're duly taught. 

Deem them unworthy of a moment's thought. 

Men, wiser grown, now scorn to wade in blood, 

Because of tenets dimly understood, 



AN EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 15 

While other weapons more eflfective far 

In what must hence be intellectual war, 

Are in our hands — the keenly pointed sneer 

At customs time has taught them to revere — 

The specious lie so much resembling truth, 

Unthinking people will believe it sooth, 

Nay, Qnust, when urged persistently, though oft 

Wise men at charges such as these have scoffd, 

For where there's so much smoke there must be flame, 

We hear on every side the world exclaim. 

Traduce their learning — call it ignorance — 

Depict their manliest traits as arrogance — 

Their faith as superstition, and the truth 

So earnestly instill'd them in their youth 

As only seeming candor ; falsify 

Historic truths to load with calumny 

The ancestors they lovingly revere, 

Howe'er in cold contempt the world may sneer. 

If they have served you weU. and long deny 

The fact, and nail it as a monstrous lie : 

Question their fealty to the commonwealth, 

And villify the good they do by stealth — 

Brand them as traitors to the proud flag which 

Their hands have helped to place in glory's niche — 

Caricature their altars and their priests — 

Their holy sacraments — ^their fasts — their feasts — 

Their gray-hair'd sires, their children and their wives, 

Until at last, all weary of their lives, 

They cry to God in unavailing prayer 

And die at last in piteous, black despair. 



16 AK EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. ' 

Thus, thus may heresy be hunted down 
"While you deprive it of the martyr's crown — 
Thus, only thus, can men exterminate 
The blind sectarians who defile a state." 

Poor Crocus, thus, would bind opinion down, 
Opinion, which but little heeds his frown, 
The self-appointed leader of a clique 
Of mild aristocrats, who fondly pique 
Themselves upon their culture and their long 
Descent from bigots who were never wrong, 
Ev'n when they burnt old women at the stake. 
" Twas really done," they said, " for conscience' sake; 
And conscience, like the king, can do no wrong," 
Ev'n when it most impels them to prolong 
The reign of bitter, blind, religious hate, 
Alike degrading, to or church or state : 
Ah, conscience ! thou hast much to answer for 
In this cold world, and men will yet abhor 
Thy name, which like religion, is a cloak, 
Worn by all men fast bound in Satan's yoke. 
And say that ev'n now thou'dst persecute, 
But that opinion will no more be mute. 

Men, such as Crocus is, whose mental gifts, 
Like streaks of sunshine breaking through the rifts 
Of storm clouds when the tempest rages high 
And veils the glories of the summer sky, 
Are much obscured by prejudice, that curse 
Ou man which wayward nature loves to nurse. 



a:n eaehtest appeal to jwobt. 17 

Are truly not the sages we respect — 

Are not the men whom freemen would elect 

Those measures to inaugurate which lead 

To that long-sought reform we sorely need — 

Are not the teachers we confide in — loe 

Whose proudest boast is that our minds are free. 

But let us now from Crocus turn aside, 
Who will your most impassion'd zeal deride ; 
He has no heart to which you can appeal, 
And how can he, who has no feelings feel ? 
But save his fellow-hirelings ere they fall 
So low no human ear can hear their call : 
(Earth's most abandon'd wretches have a claim 
I On human sympathy, though lost to shame : 
Then seek them out ere yet it be too late 
To stay the tide of their unhappy fate ; 
Explore with me the unwholesome dens where lurk 
These heathen — long inured to dirty work — 
Where exiled decency provokes a sneer. 
And pretzels deluged down with lager-bier 
Are deem'd the richest luxuries earth affords, 
These hateful libels on creation's lords. 

Here deep beneath the surface of the earth 
Where vice's current orgies madden mirth — 
Where crude philosophers in search of light 
To guide the purblind, erring world aright. 
Have from reveal'd religion's landmarks cut 
Themselves adrift their doubting souls to glut 



18 AN EARNEST APPEAL TO MOOBT. 

On theories so indistinct and vague 

That he is lost who will consent to plague 

His intellect in delving after them, 

Through sj)eculations all good men condemn. 

Slouch'd hat, long hair and spectacles combined 

Not alv/ays indicate a godlike mind ; 

Such should be taught that man's first duty here 

Is not to drown his intellect in bier, 

Nor use the meagre talent God has given 

T' obstruct a fellow creature's path to heaven: 

Teach them to save themselves or try to save, 

Ere fate commits them to the gloomy grave 

Without a hope to cheer their gloomier souls 

In that abode where sin's abandon'd ghouls 

Without cessation gnash their teeth and wail, 

Forever doom'd to everlasting bale : 

Their souls, although indefinitely small, 

May be worth saving — ^may at mercy's call 

Be lured to seek admission to the fold 

With those on whom the world resigns its hold. 

Perhaps their chief, whom long success has crown'd 
With bays on which all honest men have frown' d. 
May see himself, as others see him, yet. 
And pay to self-respect the true man's debt — 
Be all a simple citizen should be. 
And not the hireling tool of bigotry. 
Show him that when Columbia, proud and free — 
Whose flag, triumphant, floats on every sea. 
Gave him that refuge, which he needed sore. 
From all the wrongs his suffering fathers bore, 



AN EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODT. I9 

She hoped he would appreciate the boon, 

Nor seek her noble motives to impugn, 

By thinking that she meant alone for him — 

Whose views of right and wrong are vague and di«i — 

That gift for which her hills have oft been red 

With freemen's blood in freedom's battle shed, 

That it might be transmitted stage by stage 

From sire to son through many a distant age 

With aye increasing blessings, such as man 

Had never known since time his course began — 

Which slave|!..nor dastards can nor win nor wear 

And but the brave and true must hope to share. 

She gave him freedom — he was born a slave 

And in return attempts to dig her grave, 

As old dame Partington would stay the gale 

That burst upon her with her mop and pail. 

When ocean's rising waves her cottage swept 

And, furiously, their ancient bounds o'erleapt. 

To spread wild devastation on the shore 

While dame, nor cot, nor broom are heard of more. 

The talents nature gave he basely sold 

To those by whom sad Crocus is controll'd. 

And soon became the meanest tool of those 

Who are the chiefs of freedom's snake-like foes, 

Not urged thereto by false erratic views 

Of minds by education made obtuse, 

But that it pays — it pays ! — some men will sell 

Their souls — their country to the lord of — well 

It matters not, gold, gold is their sole aim ; 

They hold its want synonymous with shame 



201 ^-V EARJS'EST APPEAL TO 3I00DT. 

And crime and all the miseries that mark 
Men's lives whose paths are dreary, cold and dark. 
Oh ! say to them, to him, to all who breathe 
God's balmy air that freedom can bequeath 
1^0 right to one which others must not share 
Who in the harvest's heat her burdens bear. 
We know he cannot prize the boon she gave — 

JTime only teaches freedom to the slave ; 
We know that he would barter it away. 
In any mart that offer'd higher pay : 
We can but tolerate him at the most 
Though of our large warm hearts we love to boast, 
And shall be glad to see him sail afar. 
To lands long suffering from religious war ; 
Though God forefend that other lands should feel 

1 The woes that spring from blind religious zeal ; 
And when he goes, will pray, oh ! not in vain, 
As once before, that he may long remain. 
Columbia well can spare the viperous brood 
Whose path on earth with baleful slime is strew'd ; 
For such as he she has no welcome warm — 
His pencil long has lost its power to charm. 
His vile caricatures and vulgar sketches 
May win some faint applause from kindred wretches, 
But free Columbia ! — sick, disgusted — turns 
Away and o'er his lost condition mourns, 

/Fearing that ev'n a Moody's voice will fail 
To reach a conscience, always held for sale. 

Sis case is hopeless ; other men around 
Who claim some small attention may be found. 



AN EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 21 

Who are not so completely sunk in sin 

But that they may a purer life begin 

When brought within the influence of your voice, 

So shall the angels once again rejoice, 

O'er one more vessel from the burning pluck'd 

Which may have heretofore been overlook'd. 

There's burly Brontes,* whose incisive pen 
Is truly terrible to guilty men — 
Who rails alike at those who live by fraud, 
Like homeless thieves, unconscious of a God, 
And those who imitate the Christian's meek 
And lowly efforts saving grace to seek. 
So they unquestion'd may devour the spoil, 
Which crowns too oft their unremitting toil 
In devious ways that will not bear the light, 
Which might, let in, their future prospects blight. 
Teach him that mei'cy the apostles teach 
To all frail mortals whom the gospels reach, 
And that he should in future, when in quest 
Of topics for his pen, let B**ch*r rest : '3-« ■< <-''^"''' 
Restrain his flatteries of the " truly good," 
And pious deacon which are misconstrued 
By vicious men ; they leave a string behind 
Excruciating to a simple mind. 
He may extol the dull, sepulchral rhyme 
Of Childs, A. M., as sonorous, sweet, sublime, 
And soothing to the sorrow-stricken, but 
His eyes to Wh*t*l*w's musing should be shut, 

* He forged Jupiter's thunder. 



22 ^N" EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 

Ev'n thougli lie howls " stop thief" at de«iocrats, 
Whom he would poison as we poison rats, 
And holds that all republicans are check'd, 
"When they depart this life, for heaven direct, 
Excepting those whom Silver Bland has lured 
From virtue's flowery paths to be immured 
With Tilden and his clique in realms below 
Where all recalcitrants inherit woe : 
For is he not a brother of the quill ? 
And in his efforts -^to ascend the hill 
Of fame, with Bullion strapp'd upon his back, 
The dust he raises to conceal his track 
Induces men to think, who know him best, 
He doubts the principles which he profess'd 
Ere yet he buckled on the armor worn 
By honest Horace of the hope forlorn ; 
Whose simple worth and pure, unsullied aims 
Were held to be a statesman's highest claims 
To leadership, as when our Lincoln led 
The people in the cause for which he bled. 
But yet, who knows ? He may be pure as gold, 
{Though all his movements seem to be controll'd 
^^- iBy him who owns just one and fifty shares 

)0f Tribune stock — the prince of bulls and bears. 

That he endeavors in and out of season 
To make the " worse appear the better reason " 
Is no good reason why he should revile 
The president because he lacks the guile 
And cunning of those politicians who 
Have never been and never can be true 



AN EAEWE8T AJ^PBAL TO MOODY. 23 

To anything on earth but to their own 
Base, selfish passions, which are always shown 
In all their acts when out of and when in 
The offices they sell themselves to win. 

When they proclaimed with all the fire and force 
Of patriots, till their brazen throats were hoarse, 
That, if the people, whom they had betray'd 
Of oft, and whom they felt were now array'd 
Against them, would but trust them once again, 
They'd be more faithful stewards and better men — 
Be more obedient to the people's will 
And their oft-broken promises fulfill. 
The people trusted them once more and Hayes, 
As yet unused to their sly, wily way 
Inititiated all the wise reforms 

They promised, heedless of the gathering storms J|| 
That threatened him because he would be true 
To God, himself, and to the people who 
Elected him, but whom they meant should be 
Their hackneyed tool in every treachery. 
" We never meant to give ourselves away 
So foolishly," these heartless schemers say, 
" What ! yield the spoil for which we fought so long ! 
Despoil ourselves to make our foemen strong ! 
Deprive our ranks of that which gave them power 
And courage in our party's darkest hour ! 
No ! thank you, not for us ! We cannot brmg 
Ourselves to cut the rope to which we cling 
When every other hope has pass'd away, 
And every lip is pallid with dismay. 



24 ■^N' EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 

What though our promises the people quote, 
We meant them, but as bait to catch their vote 
He ! he, is false to us, not we to him, 
And he, or soon or late, must learn to trim 
His sails to every shifting breeze that blows, 
If he would give our party the repose 
It needs so much since that last bitter fight 
When Sammy T. demoralized us quite ; 
And the Returning Board upon us burst 
Like one of those dread things by Heaven accurst, 
Which Satan gave mankind in evil hour 
As a reminder of his fearful power. 
To wake our seamen from their slumbers deep. 
And hurl them howling to a deeper sleep ; 
^uch sleep as should be theirs who now revile us 
And which to many a cross would reconcile us." 
pP • Could Bronte's neighbor but discriminate 

'Twixt these and Hayes, he^might in time be great, 
His ponderous sentences wlljch seem sublime 
To young reporters who indulge in rhyme. 
And ev'n his crude attempts at fine-spun wit — 
Not often rescued from oblivion's pit, 
Might yet be read with patience by the few 
Who loved the old Tribune but scorn the new, 
Which dear old Horace, at the change aghast, 
Would swear had join'd the " Godless press " at last. 

When rogues conspire to pocket Brooklyn's cash 
Give Brontes freedom to apply the lash, 
And whip the rascals till they kowl with pain 
And to their victims yield their own again ; 



AN EAUNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 25 

Or like " Prince Hal " are taught to expiate 
Their crimes by exile in a foreign state, 
Or pine like Tweed behind the prison bars, 
Or curse like Ingersoll their evil stars, 
Which led them to believe that !N"emesi8 
Was dead, and buried deep in crime's abyss. 

j But when he would proclaim St. Just a saint, 
The scoffer will inquire the price of paint, 
And say that whitewash is not all confined 
To Washington committees and their kind. 
He may, if so inclined, with Sh*rm*n weep, 
For pity, like a lover's vow, is cheap, 
Although his eyes are not for tears design'd 
By step-dame Nature, yet his heart is kind. 
And may ere long o'er B**ch*r'8 sorrows throb, 
Though now he takes unkindly to the job. 
But when he would on Bilkin's brows attempt 
To bind the bays, the effort breeds contempt ; 
Large intellectual gifts and lore combined 
Are sadly wasted on a vulgar mind. 
For instinct will assert itself in spite 
Of will when reason is unbalanced quite : 
And he who worships notoriety 
Upon her shrine must immolated be. 
Ere he attain his object ; honest fame 

At notice thus achieved would blush for shame ; 

/And as men take in scandal much delight 

/ His memory should be banish'd out of sight. 
The theme is thread-bare — something new and strange 
Turns up each day to give a wider range 



26 ^^ EARNEST AFFEAL TO MOODY. 

To his keen vision ; prisons need reform, 
Our filthy streets with ulcerous outcasts swarm, 
Crime stalks abroad suborn'd by the police, 
Who club the howling victims whom they fleece ; 
In all the highest places of the state. 
Where rogues of politics and finance prate. 
Corruption reigns and justice, thrust aside, 
Pines in deep sorrow o'er her claims denied . 
While thieves and forgers howl " reform ! reform ! " 
To drown theii^ terrors of the coming storm, 
Which, though it may o'erwhelm them in its rage, 
Will scarce their thirst for Treasury loot assuage ; 
Nor force them to disgorge the stolen gold 
For which their honor was so basely sold. 
There lies his duty, let him sleep nor rest 
Till he has swept our land of every pest. 
And men will bless his efforts in the cause 
Of virtue and our long insulted laws. 

Oh, Moody ! In the solemn midnight hour, 
When nature's voice seems shorn of half its power, 
When winds are hush'd and every leaflet seems 
To lose its own identity in dreams 
Of rest, unbroken rest, where mildew, shade, 
!Nor lightning, wind nor rain shall stand array'd 
To wrench it from the twig to which it clings, 
With that innate tenacity which springs 
From love of life in all created things ; 
Let not thy tongue forget its office then, 

I If thou art earnest in the cause of men, 
But pray for him who at the nation's helm, 
/When rank corruption threatens to o'erwhelm 



AN EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 27 

The land in ruin, seeks to steer the ship 
Of state in safety o'er the troublous deep. 
The suffering people have submitted long, 
Though not without protesting, to the throng 
Of politicians, who, like cormorants, 
Gorge all before them to supply their wants ; 
And hail with gladness the returning reign 
Of Peace and Plenty o'er the land again. 
The nation's honest chief has bravely burst, 
Like old Prometheus, the bonds accurst 
Which bound his predecessors in the gripe 
Of noxious vipers whom he hopes to wipe 
From memory in the coming reign of law 
Which freemen hail with reverential awe. 
Then let thy prayers ascend from day to day 
For him and us till fraud is swept away, 
And virtue has return'd once more to glad 
The nation's heart which has so long been sad. 

"^ Hope smiles on thee, for lo ! the people come 
To learn of thee from many a distant home ; 
Thy name, thy virtues and thy labors draw 
Towards thee all who reverence the law ; 
While thy grand struggle in the fight with sin 
Assures the doubtful that the truth must win ; 
Thine earnest prayers, thine adjurations, and 
The lifelong efforts thou hast made to brand 
The brows of sin, so that all men may read 
Who are not yet from Satan's shackles freed. 
Are they not written in the chronicles 
By Scribe the bard, who thus the story tells : 



28 ^^ EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 

'^ It was the Sabbath night. The ' Rink ' was throng'd 
"With men who to the outer world belong' d, 
For well-bred Christians had remain' d away, 
Content that sin should have its time to pray 
And be converted ere the last sad hour 
Should see it given o'er to Satan's power — 
Cut off from grace and doom'd to endless woe 
Beneath the rule of man's relentless foe. 

" Among some thousands of poor sinners there, 
The guiltiest only claim'd the preacher's care, 
On whom he urged repentance ere the gloom 
Of death o'ertook them in the silent tomb. 
* There are,' he said, * bad men of every grade, 
"Who at the bar of judgment stand array'd : 
The lad who steals the paper from your door — 
The milkman who adulterates his store 
Of milk so that his profits may increase — 
The lawyer, whose profession is to fleece 
His litigating victims of their gold, 
And count his profits by the hundred fold ; — 
The Wall street sharper who conspires to cheat 
His hungry gulls and glories in the feat, 
All, all, are travelling on the beaten road, 
That leads direct to Satan's warm abode ; 
But newsboy, milkman, lawyer, sharper, all 
The rogues whom sin's degrading gyves enthrall, 
Are only raw recruits in Satan's ranks — 
Who skirmish timidly on vice's flanks — 
Compared with men, in other lands unknown, 
Who deem the city's treasury their own. 



AN EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 29 

Ah ! friends, of all the world's great plunderers, 
These leeches are perdition's rightful heirs, 
For on the poor their crimes are sure to fall, 
As heavily as does the funeral pall 
On her, who sees the husband of her heart 
Struck from her side by death's unerring dart. 
Yet these may also sue for saving grace 
And mercy ere they close their sinful race, 
To enter tremblingly the gloomy shades 
Where all from lost ones, but their terror, fades 
And whei'e the goats are sepai'ated from 
The sheep ere quarter'd in their final home.' 

y " All eyes were fix'd upon the man who stood 
Before them, pleading in a voice subdued 
With sorrow as he urged the sinners, there 
Repentant, to unite with him in prayer — 
Prayer for an old man who had stroll'd away 
From virtue's path — whose steps were led astray 
In youth by men who ran with the machine 
What time he should to Sunday-school have been. 
The weeping preacher paused as if to draw 
Attention to his words and, startled, saw 
Amid the sea of upturned faces there. 
Contrition, terror, apathy, despair; 
In F*wl*r's face contrition was portray'd. 
And though K*ns*lla mutter'd * who's afraid ? ' 
His terror-stricken eye proclaim'd a fear 
Of some impending danger hovering near ; 
The smiling apathy of Sfcr*n*h*n 
Made Mike mistake him for another man, 



30 -^^ EABNEST APPEAL TO MOOBY. 

While K*ngsl*y's blank despair evoked the sym- 
pathetic tears all of who gazed on him. 

" Again the preacher urged his flock to pray 
For one who in life's journey lost his way — 
An old man, long the victim of a school 
Of politicians whom he seem'd to rule, 
But only seem'd ; his power was lost when they 
Beheld themselves deprived of further prey : 
When Brooklyn's Boss, a picture of remorse. 
Sprang to his feet with wild excitement hoarse, 
A glistening teardrop forming in each eye. 
Big, bright and round, precursor of a sigh. 
' Hold up ! old man,' he cried, ' and give 's a rest ,• 
That's me ! that's me ! ' and wildly beat his breast ; 
* I have been wild and wayward in my day. 
And in my age but little given to pray : 
But mark my words, when this election 's o'er 
I'll travel with the wicked ring no more ; 
K*ns*lla and the other crooked Ks 
May still continue in their devious ways. 
Bob F*r*y, tbough he served me well and long, 
And with devotion led the hungry throng 
Of cormorants who always urged me on 
To ruin, till my self-respect was gone, 
And I- — the sinfulest of sinful men — 
Can never hope for peace of mind again ; 
I say that Bob no more these feet shall lure 
Through paths to erring souls so insecure. 
In F*wl*r's leaky ship I'll sail no more. 
'Twas Sl*c*m — d ^n him — ran her on the shore : 



AN EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 31 

Ah ! till that skulking traitor join'd our crew, 

And did at last what traitors always do, 

The good ship spread her canvas to the breeze, 

"Which hail'd her as the mistress of the seas, 

On which she triumphed, when, with rended sails, 

Old Winter whelm'd her in his fiercest gales, — 

Her flag, proud victory's emblem, nail'd on high, 

'Neath which her crew could all the world defy — 

'Neath which she safely weather'd many a rock. 

And long unscathed sustain'd the battle shock. 

When guns and shrouds and spars were grimed with 

smoke, 
And o'er her prow the seas tempestuous broke. 
Through which she sprang with all a conqueror's pride, 
And flung the foaming avalanche aside. 
To plunge again, resistless, through the foam 
Of ocean, which is still her native home, 
As gracefully as seabirds skim the sea — 
The only place where man is truly free 
To breathe the unadulterated air 
Of heaven on which no bungling statesman dare 
Affix a tax, though they have tax'd the bier 
We drink when two or three are gather' d here 
To talk on things of which the world without. 
Despite reporters' pens, is kept in doubt. 
Oh ! I have learn' d on bleak Canarsie's shore, 
Near Rockaway, where in the days of yore 
I rambled many a long, long day with gun 
And dog, ere yet my bad repute was won. 
That ' all is vanity,' which means, or meant. 
That ev'n a politician must repent, 



32 ^N' EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 

When utterly defeated at the polls 
By men who, like myself, neglect their souls 
When struggling for the spoils which all regard 
As being public spirit's best reward. 

" ' In this last fight, when victory loom'd anear, 
As Schr*d*r's weakening ranks gave way to fear, 
And dreams of loot illumed the glorious scene, 
'Twas Sl*c*m's hand that fired the magazine 
And blew the ship so high, she'll ne'er again 
Bear freedom's flag in triumph o'er the main. 
Enough of politics ! Henceforth I'll be 
A Christian man and shun iniquity. 
And, oh ! good people all, I pray you here 
O'er my past life to shed the pitying tear, 
And with your prayers assist me to attain 
The simple habits of my youth again.' 

" Near by sat K*ngsl*y, sobbing like a child — 
Of Brooklyn's millionaires the most reviled ; 
But wealth, however won, avail'd not now 
To light the darkness gathering on his brow : 
The preacher's words, sharp pointed, pierced his heart- 
At every glance his stricken soul would start. 
The floor seem'd sinking from beneath his feet, 
While gaping ci'owds around him block'd retreat ; 
He grasp'd the chair behind him and uprose 
A conscience smitten man of many woes ; 
And would have spoken, but his tongue refused 
T' interpret thoughts so hopelessly confused ; 



AIT BABNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. «-33 

Those nearest heard him whisper ' Reservoir,' 

Then shrink within himself as if at war 

With reason, yet his train of thought did seem 

To run on ' streets ' and ' sewers,' as in a dream, 

While Brooklyn's * bridge ' seem'd uppermost at times, 

And would get some how mix'd with Sankey's hymns, 

Till render'd desperate — was it with remorse ? — 

His white lips syllabled a hideous curse, 

And dashing through the crowd, he reach'd the door, 

To seek repentance at the ' Rink ' no more. 

Far from the platform, where the ministers 
Brought sinners to contrition with their prayers, 
Sat Sl*c*m pondering with a heavy heart 
O'er golden visions he had seen depart 
Since Congress squelch' d the vile conspirators 
Whom Brooklyn's grass grown Navy Yard abhors : 
His friends — abandon'd in their bitter strait — 
Had branded him and loud proclaim'd their hate, 
While those with whom he hoped henceforth to sail 
Were scarce prepared to face th' impending gale, 
Which seem'd the herald of a night of storm, 
That darkly threaten'd the good shij) ' Reform.' 
But Sl*c*m, though his heart did seem to melt, 
No great contrition for his follies felt, 
In other circles hoping to retrieve 
His fallen fortunes ; he forebore to grieve, 
And dash'd the cup of sorrow from his lip. 
Since fate had saved him from the sinking ship. 
His course was free, whatever could betide, 
He would be found upon the winning side. 



S4 ^-ZV EARNEST APPEAL TO MOODY. 

' Let those repent,' he cried, ' who fear their fate, 
Or shrink in terror from the Boss's hate ; 
The ' Ring ' has no attraction for me since 
The people's rage has made its master wince ; 
With Schr*d*r I shall shoreward point my prow, 
And gird me for the coming contest now. 
But will reserve my right to step ashore 
When on our lee I hear the breakers roar ; 
Ev'n rats they say desert a sinking ship, 
And gray-hair'd, pilots oft their cables slip, 
When dangers press them round on every side 
And angry tempests swell the rising tide : 
Then why not I ? who in the distance see 
The prize which fortune has in store for me.' 
Then smiling blandly he arose and left 
The ' Rink,' of every pious thought bereft ; 
Although he may repent some other day, 
As truly all good people hope he may." 

THE EN'D. 



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What is Demonetization? 

Ways to arrive at the Demonetization of Gold and 
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PiLOX, author of " The Grangers." Fifth Edition. 
8vo., 186 pp., paper cover, . . Price 75 cents. 

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The Manuscript Manual : 

How to Prepare Manuscripts for the Press — practical 
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1 



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